


Shelter

by shady



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Boys being oblivious, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Overly-close best friends, Slow Build, a lot of asahi appreciation, being way too tactile with only each other, playing with each other's hair, so many more pseudo-platonic cuddly things to come, the third years in their first year, using each other as pillows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shady/pseuds/shady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Karasuno third years' first year of high school.  Daichi and Suga have yet to realize that they don't exactly act like best friends.  Isn't everyone this close with theirs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well this just came to be because i'm in love with the idea of best friends that are way too comfortable with each other. also it's 7 am and i haven't slept in SO LONG and this is completely unrevised, unreviewed, unbeta'd, and pretty much un-everything else you're supposed to do before posting fic. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> also there is a lot of asahi love in here

Daichi leans back in his--Suga’s--chair, stifling a yawn as he goes. “It’s too hot,” he mutters, to no response. He stretches his neck back to stare at Suga upside-down, on his bed and studiously ignoring Daichi in favor of math homework.  His uniform shirt is unbuttoned on the top, sleeves rolled up in an ineffective battle against the heat.  A few strands of silver hair stick to his forehead.

Daichi reaches an arm out to swat at Suga’s ankle. “We should do something.” Suga’s pencil scritches determinedly on paper. “Where’s Asahi, anyways? You’re boring when you work.”

That earns him a glare, and the second they lock eyes, Daichi grins and wiggles his eyebrows. “It’s almost summer break--c’mon we have to get ready for it and _do_ something.”

Suga snorts and says, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” but he acquiesces and puts his homework away, flopping onto his back so they’re both staring at the other upside-down. “What do you want to do?”  

Daichi shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. “Where _is_  Asahi, though?”  He fights the irrational urge to use his frustratingly incomprehensible math homework to wipe his brow of sweat, opting for the more reasonable, yet less satisfyingly vindictive choice of his forearm.

Suga grabs his phone instead of answering, flicking through it until he finds something, and shoves it under--over?--Daichi’s nose. “He wants to get all his homework done before we ‘drag him into any more of our ridiculous plans,’” Daichi reads off a text. “When have we ever...”

Suga tosses him a look, throwing his phone onto the bed where it bounces abortively once, as if it, too, couldn't work up the energy to do more than that. “We almost broke our noses jumping off swings and colliding the other day. Asahi was freaking out the entire time and trying to get us to go to the hospital,” he reminds casually.

Daichi wants to smile fondly at the memory--Asahi fretting over them as they laughed into the grass, holding their bloody noses until they finally calmed Asahi down enough to get him to sit down--but it means they’re down one member. “It was like a week ago. Maybe if I text him instead...”

“Why would that work?” Suga is absently fanning himself with a hand, staring with vague interest as Daichi taps out a message.

“He likes me better, obviously.”

“You’re crazy. _I'm_  actually nice to him, unlike you.”

“Hey, I’m plenty nice, _and_ I don’t go around hitting him,” Daichi retorts.

“I hit you, too!” Suga says, offended.  His nose scrunches in a glare that doesn't quite fit the fair features of the rest of his face, made even more ridiculous by the way his hair is flopping towards the floor.

Daichi snorts. “And who’s the nice one here?”

At that, Suga sits up, laughing, and suddenly Daichi’s getting smacked in the face by a pillow with a muffled, “Hey!” He tugs it down, Suga still gripping the corners, and finds himself staring up at Suga hovering over him, arms bracketing his head.  Suga's cheekbones are dusted with pink from the heat, his mole more endearingly prominent with the contrast.

They stare at each other for a beat before Daichi snickers. “You know this only proves my point, right?” Suga’s only response is to pull the pillow back up over his face.

It somehow devolves into a pillow fight from there--or rather, Suga armed with a pillow, fighting Daichi off as he tackles him onto the bed. There’s grappling for the pillow and at some point Daichi realizes he can use Suga’s ticklishness to his advantage, filling the room with shrieks and breathless laughter. Suga retaliates by bodily knocking Daichi off, and they fall into a heap on the floor, laughing and shoving at each other until Suga’s mom good-naturedly shouts up from downstairs not to break anything.

They’re getting their last giggles out when Daichi asks from underneath Suga’s arm, which had at some point flopped over his face, “So what do you want to do?”

Suga hums contemplatively. “It’s hot. We should go swimming.”

“Where? Nothing is close enough.”  He stretches, arching his back up to assess any new bruises from the floor, and dislodging Suga's arm in the process.

There’s a groan, and Suga rearranges himself to lean over Daichi. “That was my suggestion. Now come up with your own.” He plops his chin onto his hand and blinks sleepy brown eyes at Daichi.

“We could practice? I’ve been reading some more about volleyball strategies and I really want--” Suga groans some more, stretching his mouth dramatically as he rolls his head forward in mock distress.  

“I can’t believe your solution to it being hot is to get even sweatier.” He affectionately knocks his knuckles against Daichi’s forehead. “Isn’t there anything besides volleyball in there?”

Daichi can’t take offense when Suga is dimpling at him like that, eyes warm and soft and crinkling at the corners. “Sorry I’m not an amazing setter that already has a spot as a regular--I still have to work to get to your level, Suga,” he says playfully.

He earns a shove for that, even as Suga is trying to cover the pink spreading across his face. “Stop it,” his voice is lilting, holding back a smile Daichi instinctively knows is hiding behind Suga's hand. “We can practice if you want to, geez.” He huffs, not quite pulling off the put-upon tone he was aiming for.

Daichi grins, pleased. They’re lying on the floor of Suga’s bedroom, a thin sheen of sweat making them both faintly sticky and uncomfortable in the brutal July midafternoon, Daichi’s stomach making vague noises of hunger, and Daichi is inexplicably, unapologetically, and utterly _content_. The thing is, Daichi never quite had a best friend, really. There were the childhood friends he stuck around solely because they were a group to play with, and there was Ikejiri in middle school; sure, they were close friends, but it was lacking in _something_ Daichi can’t quite explain. It was just the type of connection they had, like they were always working on different wavelengths, never quite in sync. Daichi still keeps in touch with Ikejiri, tossing a few texts back and forth occasionally, and yet…

Sometimes Daichi will silently catch Suga’s eye in the middle of class and they’ll giggle to themselves, knowing exactly what the other was thinking. Sometimes during practice Daichi would move, unthinkingly, to a spot he _knew_ Suga would need him at. Sometimes Suga would be lounging on Daichi’s bed in the middle of a study session and suggest a break, right as Daichi could feel his own frustration boiling over. And they’re _comfortable_ , too. It’s only been a few months since they started their first year, but everything with Suga feels so natural, with them sliding into an easy friendship as if they’d known each other for years. It’s odd to Daichi, when he finds himself contemplating it at times like these, that Suga filled in all the spaces Daichi didn’t even know needed filling, without so much as batting an eye.

Even Asahi complemented their entire dynamic in ways Daichi hadn’t felt in a friendship before. He was shy and timid in an endearing way upon first meeting, but once past the tentative friendship of new acquaintances, they quickly became a tight trio. It was natural to stick together as the only first years in the volleyball club, and each had built on the friendship until it started to feel lacking when one of them was absent. Asahi would be there to reign them in when Daichi and Suga got too caught up in their own messy-fun ideas, even through their wheedling of _come on, Asahi, it’ll be_ fun. Daichi staunchly believes that Asahi secretly does enjoy all the times he’s dragged along with them, and only plays responsible because he feels _someone_ has to. It only makes Daichi try harder to sway him into joining them as they plot out whatever catches their imaginative eye that day.

Suga brought up to Daichi one time, when it was just the two of them, that Asahi had this soft, genuine smile when they’d be giggling in the aftermath of one of their adventures, pulling pranks or anything along that vein of adolescent humor. Daichi took care to look out for it the next time they were messing around, and found himself witnessing one of the purest expressions to grace any face Daichi had, or ever would, see. It was gentle, almost contradictorily making Asahi’s face glow from within, despite the lack of overt expression. His eyes crinkled in the corners, and Daichi caught himself staring when Asahi glanced over, smile turning self-conscious even as Daichi beamed up at him.

It’s only been a few months into Daichi’s first year, and he’s lying on the carpet of one of his best friends’ bedrooms, not entirely comfortable, and he’s the happiest he’s ever been.

He nudges Suga’s leg with a socked foot. “Nah, let’s go downstairs and play some video games.”

Suga lets out a relieved breath, pressing his cheek into the floor. His hair is sticking up endearingly with the static of their earlier tumble. “Oh, _thank God_. If you made me exert myself right now, I might pass out.”

Daichi just hums cheerfully, ignoring the dramatics and pulling himself up before offering a hand to tug Suga, still prostrated on the floor. “Tell Asahi to call us when he’s done so we can play together--no shenanigans today, promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sleepovers ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Daichi plops down on the bench next to Suga and heaves a sigh, his legs spilling out from under him with exhaustion. They're both panting, rivulets of sweat tracing paths into the collars of their already-soaked shirts. Suga wordlessly passes Daichi a towel before leaning his head back to take a long pull from his water bottle.

Daichi's eyes find themselves wandering to the moles speckling the column of Suga's neck before turning back to watch the others practice. Asahi is off to the side conversing with the team's ace, most likely taking pointers from the upperclassman. Daichi nudges Suga's knee where he's pressed up against him, nodding in Asahi's direction. "They seem to be getting along well. Do you think he knows Asahi's going to be the next ace?" He swipes Suga's water, chugging down the rest of it.

Suga glances at him, amused, before turning towards Asahi. "And how do _you_ know Asahi will be the next ace?"

"Do you not think he'll be?"

Suga smiles, pressing a towel to his face before standing up in a stretch. "Of course I do. Asahi's going to be the best, and the third years know it." He offers a hand to Daichi, who accepts it gratefully in wake of his newly-sore muscles.

They're standing up, trying to muster the courage to dive back into the relentless tide of practice, when Asahi jogs over. As three, they head back to the volleyball court, Asahi animatedly gesticulating as he relays the new information he learned.

Most of the volleyball club might have given up on going to nationals, but Tashiro still refuses to let his team slack, instead working them until Daichi feels his muscles twinge with even the slightest movement. A quick glance shows him that Suga and Asahi are no better off. Suga’s entire face is red with exertion as he gulps down air; Asahi’s hair is so slick with sweat that he can comb it back, his cropped hair suddenly making him look more mature. Daichi never thought that he was out of shape until this moment, hands gripping his bent knees and trying to scrape air into his all-too-small lungs.

When practice ends, it's such a relief that Daichi sags against Suga on the way to the showers with something close to a sob. Suga stumbles, his legs nearly giving way and knocking into Asahi, who steadies them with a hand. They’re mute with exhaustion until they’re climbing into clean clothes, limbs heavy and slow. Most of the team had left already, the captain announcing that they won’t have Sunday practice tomorrow and being met with a mix of quietly relieved sighs and happy cheers.

Daichi’s trying to massage his shoulder to no avail when he asks, “Do you guys want to come over today?”

Suga must take pity on him, because he nudges Daichi’s hand away, unable to reach, and starts kneading. He’d put away his towel in the middle of drying his hair; one side is sticking up in a fluffy mess, making him look like a sleepy baby penguin. Daichi would laugh, except he’s too busy sighing under Suga’s ministrations.

“Sure. I needed some help with English, anyways, and you’re better at it than I am.” He moves to straddle the bench for a better angle to massage with.

Asahi looks at them from where he’d been scrutinizing his reflection in the mirror. “It’s amazing that you’re thinking about homework already, Suga.”

“And he says I have a one-track mind,” Daichi laughs, and immediately regrets it when Suga pulls his hands away, sticking his tongue out. Daichi grumbles and tugs his shirt on as Suga goes back to drying his hair. “What are you doing anyways, Asahi?”

He starts guiltily from in front of the mirror, his hand coming up to rub at his neck. “Ah, well--when we got back earlier, my hair was up and I--thought it looked nice?” Asahi chuckles nervously. “I was thinking about...trying something out.” His eyes shift back and forth as if expecting ridicule.

Suga doesn’t notice--he’s rummaging through his duffel bag, and asks lightly, “What, like grow it out? I think you’d be able to pull that off pretty well.”

Daichi nods vigorously. “Yeah, it definitely works for you. I don’t think I could ever do something like that with my hair, to be honest.” He scrubs a hand across his head. He’d tried to grow it out in middle school once, but even with the help of hair gel, it stuck out at all angles.  Daichi resolved to keep it cropped from that point on.

From the depths of his bag, Suga surfaces, holding a shirt. He holds it out for Daichi, saying, “Here. I borrowed this the last time I was over. It’s washed and everything.” He turns to Asahi, who’d come to sit down with them. “We should grow out our hair together--I always feel like mine’s too short.”

Daichi sees Suga give Asahi a curious look at the relieved smile on his face, and feels himself grin fondly. He wonders if Suga is aware of his penchant for always saying the right thing when it’s needed.

“So are you coming over, Asahi?” Daichi stands up, legs protesting, and extends a hand to each of them.

“I don’t think you two would let me say no anyways,” Asahi snorts as he clasps Daichi’s hand.

Daichi winks at Suga when Asahi heads for the door, proud of the recognition for all their efforts put into dragging Asahi along with them.

-

They’ve been at Daichi’s house for an hour, watching volleyball videos on his computer, when they start nodding off. They had all tugged chairs over to the desk and couldn’t help but tiredly rest their heads on their arms. Suga is the first to go, his eyes fighting to stay open where they’re trained on the monitor. Eventually he loses the battle, falling asleep with his mouth open and hair falling into his face.

Asahi’s next, just slumping face-down into his arms without preamble.

At this point, Daichi gives up on blearily watching vague shapes move around in the video, and lets his eyes slide shut into blissful darkness.

When he wakes up, he’s disoriented to find himself lying in bed with Suga beside him, curled up on his side. He thinks back and only faintly remembers Asahi’s phone going off, Asahi leaving and Daichi walking him to the door, and then himself sleepily nudging Suga awake until they both stumble towards the bed, snoozing again. Daichi laughs remembering the trail of drool on Suga’s chin as he snuffled awake, struggling to focus on Daichi.

It wakes Suga up, chin and shirt disappointingly absent of drool. He blinks around at the dim lighting before stretching his arms over his head and yawning. A small strip of pale skin peeks out from under his shirt. “What time is it?”

Daichi can’t help but yawn back as he answers, “Just a little past seven.” Suga makes a face at him when he cracks his neck. “Do you have to be back home? Or do you want to stay for dinner?”

“Would your parents mind?”

They’re still lying in bed, and when Suga turns to look at Daichi, it’s the first time Daichi realizes his bed is too small for the two of them to fit comfortably. Daichi’s side is sweaty where it’s pressed against Suga, and Suga’s knee is digging into his thigh, yet he doesn’t move; there isn’t any room left to move _to_.

“Of course not. They love you.” It’s true--the many times Daichi had brought Suga over in the past few months, Daichi’s parents had fawned all over him. They took an immediate shining to the incredibly polite boy with the disarmingly charming smile, and even went as far as asking after him when he hadn’t been over in a while. Daichi figures it might just be impossible for anyone to not like Suga upon meeting.

Suga laughs self-consciously. “Your parents are too nice. But, sure, I’ll stay. Your mom cooks better than me, anyways.”

Daichi nudges Suga with a shoulder in sympathy; his parents worked late and often, leaving Suga alone in the house most of the time, asleep by the time they get home. He says he doesn’t mind, but Daichi would like to imagine he can read Suga and all his subtle expressions by now, and makes it a point to invite Suga over as frequently as possible.

Daichi’s parents make dinner an Affair once they hear Suga’s joining them, despite Suga’s protests that he was imposing upon them enough. Daichi is quiet as his mom prepares the spicy mapo tofu, knowing that she enjoys making a big deal of things as much as Suga is secretly grateful of her motherly attention. His dad sits Suga down to talk about school and sports, and Daichi is almost entirely sure that Suga knows next to nothing about sports other than volleyball, yet Suga happily goes along with it.

It’s a nice scene.

Daichi helps his mom with the cooking while Suga talks with his dad, and then they’re all sitting down to eat. It’s pleasant and easy, Suga almost seeming like a part of the family, and making Daichi’s mom blush with compliments about the food. Daichi could see Suga glowing from the warmth of the atmosphere, his cheeks flush and his eyes twinkling with every laugh.

When they’re cleaning up, Suga immediately takes a place beside Daichi, drying the dishes Daichi finishes rinsing off.  Daichi protests that he's a guest, trying to bump him out of the way with his hip, even as Suga complains that he's too old-fashioned.

Their bickering is interrupted when Daichi’s mom sighs, “It’s a shame Asahi couldn’t stay for dinner--we have too many leftovers again.”  Her problem of cooking in massive quantities and Asahi’s appetite went together hand-in-hand, making him another favorite with her; and, once past his shyness, he warmed up to her incredibly fast due to all the food she plied him with. Suga likes to call it a symbiotic relationship between the two.

“Here, Suga, dear.” Daichi’s mom thrusts a container of leftovers into Suga’s arms. “Take this home. I know it’s your favorite.” She shushes all of his protests and walks away jauntily, as if having fulfilled her mission.

Daichi snickers behind a hand as Suga stares, bewildered, at the tupperware. “This is enough to feed me for a whole week.” Yet a tiny smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Daichi wonders if he's aware of it.

“Don’t worry, Asahi and I will be over to help you finish it.” Daichi slaps him on the back, and Suga beams at him, cheeks dimpling. For a moment, Daichi stands there, realizing that he doesn’t want Suga to go just yet, because seeing him so _content_ was really...nice.

“Are you going to head home now or…?” He trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. They had never spent the night at the other’s house before, and the last time Daichi had a sleepover was in the third grade. He felt himself blush out of sheer embarrassment at his awkwardness. “Um.”

Suga squints at him for a moment before he asks, laughter in his voice, “Are you trying to ask if I want to spend the night?”

Daichi’s face gets hotter. “I mean--if you want to. I wouldn’t mind. It’d be--it could be fun?” He winces and shoves his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t do something silly like try to cover his face. “You can borrow some clothes. There’s already that shirt you used before, when you needed to shower here, so…”

Suga very graciously does not laugh at his suffering, instead throwing him a completely genuine smile. “Yeah, that’d be cool. It sounds fun, Daichi.” His tone only has the faintest hint of mockery, but Suga’s expression is so earnest Daichi thinks he just imagined it.

“All right. Cool.” They stare at each other for a beat before Daichi realizes Suga’s waiting for him to move. “Oh! Right.” He takes the tupperware from Suga and puts it in the fridge, hearing Suga snort behind him. They poke their heads into the living room, Daichi announcing that Suga’s spending the night, and Suga waving cheerfully in the back. His parents give him the green light, and after Suga thanks them profusely for having him over, they tumble back into Daichi’s room.

Suga plops down onto Daichi’s bed and looks up expectantly. “So, what do we do now?”

Daichi glances around his room. He shrugs, says, “I don’t know. What do you want to do?” Suga helpfully shrugs back. “What do people normally do?”

Suga considers for a moment, picking at his nails, before snorting. “We could play truth or dare.” He wiggles his eyebrows as leans back on his hands, faded t-shirt stretching across his shoulders. Daichi must have made a face, because Suga’s tossing his head in a laugh and saying, “Oh, come on. You asked, and it could be _fun_.”

“With two people, though?” Daichi scrubs a hand across his head. He sits down next to Suga, who turns to face him, crossing his legs on the bed.

“Why not?” Suga cocks his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Time to lay your soul bare for me, Daichi.”

Daichi rolls his eyes at the dramatics, scooting back to lean against the wall and stretching his legs out. He figures he has no terribly dark secrets to reveal and tentatively agrees, to Suga’s glee.

They start off with truths, Suga asking Daichi about the worst thing he’s ever done.

Daichi is quietly thinking for a bit before he furrows his brows and asks, “Can I do the thing that I feel the most guilty about?” Suga nods enthusiastically, leaning forward in anticipation. “This one time in the second grade--”

Suga groans with a laugh, shaking his head. “Only you, Daichi,” he says, before prodding him to continue.

Daichi recounts the time he violated the trust of his second grade teacher, taking two candies out of the prize jar instead of one as instructed, while Suga tries--and fails--to smother his giggles with a hand.

“Seriously! I never felt worse than at that moment, with her just _looking_ at me with disapproval. We had had a bond, okay?” Daichi is earnest, trying to stop Suga’s laughter and only succeeding in making him double over harder; but then Daichi is laughing, too, both of them breathless by the end of it.

Suga picks a dare for his turn, and they sneak down to the kitchen, Daichi heading for the fridge. He rummages around for a bit before telling Suga to look away as he concocts a foul-smelling mixture of the various sauces and condiments at hand. He holds his nose exaggeratedly as he hands the viscous liquid off to Suga, who blanches visibly.

“Just one swallow, Suga. You can do it, c’mon.” Daichi encourages after Suga asks what the penalty would be for refusing the dare.

Suga holds the cup away from his body as if merely being in its proximity was causing him distress. He takes a cautious peek at it, and immediately scrunches his nose in distaste. “Why is it so...lumpy?”

They had left the lights off, and Suga's eyes are wide in the darkness, reflecting the sparse light filtering in from the living room. It isn't late, but there is a certain atmosphere surrounding their first sleepover, making them unwilling to break the secretive quiet. Where earlier the kitchen had been full of mirth and warmth and chatter, it has an entirely different air now, with the two of them standing amongst shadows, light only grazing the edges of their figures. It feels serene, ephemeral--nothing outside of the murky kitchen matters. It's like they're the only two that exist that night, alone together, whispering hushedly for fear of breaking the spell.

Even as Suga sucks in a breath for courage and nearly gags on the drink, Daichi hurrying to get him a glass of water, the feeling persists in Daichi’s chest. As if the darkness could preserve the moment, the laughter-induced drunkenness and inexplicable sense of _security_.

-

They’ve traded truths back and forth for a few rounds, back in Daichi’s bedroom, neither of them willing to risk a dare anymore. Daichi doesn’t have anything interesting to tell whenever Suga asks him lewd questions, wiggling his eyebrows deviously--but Suga doesn’t look disappointed, despite his complaining that Daichi is boring. Even so, his playful grousing only lasts about two seconds before Daichi is stuffing a pillow into his face, willfully not blushing.

Among other details Daichi already knew at least vaguely, he learns that Suga is deathly afraid of horses and has never kissed anyone.

“Why, have you?” Suga asks when Daichi expresses his surprise, genuinely curious.

“I mean, when I was eight this one girl that lived in my neighborhood kissed me. Does that count?” For some reason, he stops himself from mentioning that it was Michimiya.  He figures it's because it will make things weird seeing her at school.

Suga snorts. “Not even a little bit.” He’s hugging Daichi’s pillow as he leans back onto the headboard. “Okay, your turn.”

“Truth.” Both of them had been too lazy to do anything but talk for a while, but Daichi says it more out of habit than anything.

Suga hums contemplatively, and then his face is lighting up with a wicked grin. “If you had to choose out of all the guys in the volleyball club, who would you kiss?” He rests his chin on the pillow, blinking up at Daichi with feigned innocence.

The back of Daichi’s head hits the wall with an audible _thunk_. “Suga…” he groans.

Suga arches an eyebrow suggestively. “Is that your answer, or…?”

Daichi socks him in the arm. “No. I don’t know. Who would I kiss?” He mentally shuffles through the members of the volleyball club, unable to settle on anyone in particular. Daichi wasn’t even sure what criteria he was supposed to be basing his judgment on. He scratches his head. “If I went by looks, then probably…”

He makes the mistake of glancing over at Suga, who is still staring at him expectantly, brown eyes wide. The yellow light of Daichi’s lamp is basking him in gold, making him appear as if he's glowing. Silver hair is highlighted like a halo around Suga’s head, and for the first time, Daichi realizes his best friend is _pretty_.

The sentence dies in his throat, and he clears it to try to cough up some other teammate’s name.

Suga nods sagely at it, agreeing that, “Yeah, he looks like he’d be a good kisser.”

Daichi doesn’t even remember who he said.

-

They call Asahi once they get bored of truth or dare, and lie in bed, talking into the phone until their eyelids get heavy. They bid Asahi goodnight, making him promise to hang out with them tomorrow, and get ready for bed.

Suga tugs on Daichi’s clothes and worms his way into the blankets of the futon, snuggling up to a pillow. He sighs happily, says, “Thanks for letting me stay over, Daichi.”

Daichi’s too tired to do anything but mumble incoherently in agreement, face shoved into his own pillow. He drifts off, happily thinking back on the evening, and that quiet moment in the kitchen with the secretive bubble surrounding the two. With the feeling that the night was meant for them alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should change the summary for this fic to "Asahi is admired a lot and Daichi and Suga are subtly super gay in the background."
> 
> also i broke my record and this time it's 10am while i'm posting a chapter after i haven't slept


End file.
